


Episode Five:  Scars and Hope

by keirajo



Series: Transformers: Star Voyager [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 17:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: A rift has unintentionally formed between Magnus and his ward, Hot Rod.   Pain, grief, anguish..........both are feeling these same feelings, even though they must be apart for a weekend.  Magnus sees his psychiatrist to try and deal with things, while Hot Rod spends the weekend with his friends.





	Episode Five:  Scars and Hope

Episode Five:  Scars and Hope

 

 

 

            Hot Rod was worried about Magnus.  The blue-and-white mech had locked down and blocked off his field.  Although the flame-colored mech was well-aware he could do that, he had _never_ done it around Hot Rod ever in the past ten or so years that he’d been around.   Granted, that was such a _short time_ to a Cybertronian or Cybertronian-descended………..and it made Hot Rod feel very sad not to feel his guardian’s field and he worried that he had messed things up more than he originally thought.

            As of now, he was _very_ torn—he was going to bring up the sleepover study session to Magnus, but now Hot Rod was afraid to leave his guardian alone at all.  The younger mech was busy packing snacks and some Energon for lunch when Magnus stopped in the meal-prep room, a duffel bag over his shoulder.

            Hot Rod froze, just staring at his guardian.  Magnus was………. _leaving_?

            “Hot Rod, please _do not_ look like that,” Magnus said, softly, still standing in the doorway.  He could feel the roiling grief in his young ward’s field filling the whole room.   “I spoke with my psychiatrist and he would like me to spend the weekend at the clinic.”

            “Okay.  But………..you’ll come back, right?”  Hot Rod asked, unable to keep the pain from leaking into the sound of his voice.   Then he began to fumble about, looking for something and came up with a small datapad.  “Since……….since talking is awkward…………I wrote it all out.  _Everything_ I want to say to you.”

            Magnus took the small datapad that Hot Rod handed to him.   “I promise that I’ll read it.   We’ll talk when I get back,” the former soldier said, softly.   “It’s _not_ your fault, Hot Rod………..it’s _mine_.  And I had no desire to ever hurt you.”

            “You _didn’t_.  And I’m pretty sure it’s _all_ my fault,” the flame-colored mech muttered.  “ _Ummmm_ …….so, I guess I’ll ask _this_ , then……..?”  Hot Rod trailed off, poking his two  forefingers together anxiously.  “Mid-terms are coming up, so Blurr wanted to do a study weekend together with Arcee and Springer.  We were gonna stay in the dorms, but since you won’t be here—can I just invite everyone _here_ , then?”  He asked.

            “ _Sure_.  That’ll be fine—you _can’t_ use my berthroom, though,” Magnus answered with a gentle smile.

            “ _Duh_.  Arcee and Springer can have the extra room, while Blurr and I can crash together, like always,” Hot Rod replied, a droll chuckle in his voice.  Hot Rod quickly scooped up some of the snacks he’d made into a small container and thrust it at Magnus.  Magnus always liked the homemade snacks Hot Rod made.  “Mags…… _I’ll miss you_ ………” the younger mech murmured.

            Magnus took the container and gently reached over to brush light fingers along Hot Rod’s jawline.  “I’ll miss you, too, my little star.  Try _not_ to stir up trouble,” he chuckled softly.

            “Hey, this is _me_ we’re talking about, here!”  Hot Rod said, trying to smile a usual, carefree smile—but not exactly feeling like he’s succeeding at that very well.

            “ _Again_.  Don’t stir up trouble,” Magnus said, again, laughing this time.  “I’ll see you in a few days, Hot Rod.”

            “Yeah.  Take care, Mags,” Hot Rod murmured.  He felt miserable inside as he watched Magnus leave the meal-prep room.  As soon as he heard the front door open and close, the flame-colored mech’s Spark slowed in its eternal spinning, echoing Hot Rod’s deep sadness.   Then he incycled a deep breath and sighed with a loud exvent, finished packing his lunch and eventually trudged his way to school.

            At least he knew _Blurr_ would keep him too busy to get mired too deep in his sadness.

            Hot Rod paid close attention in class today and even answered questions—not always giving the correct answer, but still trying to answer anyways.  Override smiled and praised him for trying, even when he wasn’t right.  The red-and-white femme was pleased to see him focused on classes today.   However, Override did ask him to remain after class—which had Hot Rod puzzled.  Hot Rod just told Blurr to go get Arcee and Springer and to let them know the location of the sleepover changed—and he’d join them shortly.

            “I’m tempted to ask what’s wrong now, but I was very happy to see you participate in class today, Hot Rod,” the older femme said warmly.

            “ _Oh!_    Thanks, ma’am!”   The young, flame-colored mech answered bashfully.   “I’m not in any trouble, am I?”  He asked, shyly.

            “No, of course not,” she chuckled.  “I worry about you, but I _am_ appreciative when you try hard.  Like you did today.”

            “I’m sorry, I kinda suck at school,” Hot Rod said, frowning softly.  “It’s just…………class is _too slow_ and words just kinda make a fog in my head.   Blurr’s so super-patient with me and I love going out to the track with him…………..”

            “Everyone has their strong suit.  _You_ are the type who learns by physically doing things………school’s difficult for you, at least in the classroom, because you’re not physically active in them,” Override said, nodding down at him.  “We don’t have alternative learning programs here on Corona, so I hope that you’ll try to stick it out as best as you can.”

            “Override……….can I ask?   Are _you_ from one of the other colonies?  Or from Cybertron—like Magnus?”  Hot Rod asked, very curious at the way Override spoke to him.  It was the way she said “here on Corona” and that she knew of alternative ways of learning that made him wonder if she was not born on Corona.

            “ _Ah_.   I’m from Velocitron, but I lived on Cybertron for a little while before being re-located here.  Corona is a popular planet to be re-located to—or, at least it was, when all of the colonies still had contact with Cybertron,” the red-and-white femme chuckled, sitting backwards in the chair in front of Hot Rod’s desk and folding her arms over the back of it.   “I _used_ to be a top racer, until I faced an injury that killed my career—it was something no doctor could ever fix.  So, that’s why I went to Cybertron………..I couldn’t bear _not racing_ anymore.   And on Velocitron, if you _couldn’t_ race—you were practically an outcast.”

            “Is _that_ why you tell me I’m not good……..?”  The young flame-colored mech asked, his emotions a strange, mixed bundle of things.

            “It’s _not_ that you’re _not good_ ………..you just don’t have the skills for _track racing_ ,” Override responded, seriously.  “Track racing is highly complex, it’s not simply all about the speed.   I want to point out that _your_ alt mode is best for all-terrain, not track.”

            Hot Rod tilted his head at her, very puzzled.

            “Your weight is at the back of your frame in your alt mode—it’s extremely beneficial on rough terrains, but _not_ on a track.  On a track, your frame must be thinner or your weight must be evenly distributed over your wheels,” she explained, holding the younger mech’s gaze.   “Tell me, how often does your rear slam or scrape the track walls on the sharper turns?   That’s your weight and gravity pulling you………the moment you hit the wall in any way, I can _guarantee_ you’ll lose the race.”

            Hot Rod’s mouth opened in a little “ **o** ” shape.  It started to make sense now.  He realized that his teacher _wasn’t_ being cruel about telling him he shouldn’t race because he was bad or because it affected his schoolwork!   She simply didn’t want him to waste time and effort that his own alt mode worked against him for.

            “So…….then……..if we were doing a grand prix, where the terrain was varied and _not_ just track…….?”  The young flame-colored mech asked.

            “I have no doubt that you’d win one of the top three spots in a race like that,” Override answered, grinning at him.

            Override felt his bubbling confused and depressed field suddenly fill with more determination and a feeling of happiness.

            “You can go now, I hope you have a good weekend, Hot Rod,” Override said, smiling at him.

            Hot Rod jumped to his pedes and scooped up his bag.  “Thanks so much, Override!   It really means a lot to me!”  He said, excitedly.

            Hot Rod realized his strengths were elsewhere—so he needed to find them!  That way he could truly become a better prospective partner for Magnus in the future!   The flame-colored mech had to accept his weaknesses and work through them to find his strengths.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Magnus, welcome,” Braver said, greeting the old soldier in the clinic’s waiting room.  The shorter blue-and-red mech dipped his shoulders formally at Magnus.   Then he showed Magnus the temporary room that he could stay in for the weekend.  The former soldier put his duffel down on the berth and then let Braver escort him to the office.

            “I apologize that you have to deal with me again after so many years,” Magnus said, lying down on the relaxation couch.   “I thought that maybe I had finally conquered my PTSD once I began caring for Hot Rod.”

            “Tell me what happened,” Braver said, settling in his chair with his datapad.

            Magnus shuttered his optics and started detailing the event.  Hot Rod had started off talking about fields and controlling them, as it had been part of a previous lesson……..Magnus had chided him about just projecting his field out there and into everyone.  It was a dumb argument to have and then Hot Rod had insisted that he was perfectly capable of sneaking up on or surprising anyone—and took Magnus by surprise by kissing him.

            “I didn’t even really feel his mouth on mine, because the moment he leaned in to kiss me—that was when the episode started,” Magnus said, softly.  “I lashed out and knocked him across the room before falling to the floor and nearly purging.  **_I_** ……..”

            “Was he hurt, physically?”  Braver asked, noting the chain of events on his datapad.

            “No, he told me he got a few dents………but that’s all,” Magnus whispered.  “I could’ve hurt my little star so very badly………..and that thought tears me up inside.”

            “So, Magnus………..why do _you_ think this triggered an episode?”  The red-and-blue mech asked, very softly.

            So, the old soldier incycled a deep breath and explained the memory that came with the triggered episode of trauma.  About Skyhammer saving him when they were trying to evacuate the younglings………about the other mech kissing him and then dying on top of him.

            “As I recall, you’ve told me several times about how open and raunchy the members of your elite unit could be,” Braver said with a smile.  “Is there something about Hot Rod’s personality that reminded you of Skyhammer—or was it _just_ the kiss?”  He asked.

            “I…….I think it was _mostly_ the kiss.   But Skyhammer was pretty carefree and fearless—and Hot Rod’s like that, too,” Magnus answered.  “I guess it could have been the _combination_ ……..?”

            “ _Mmm._    Magnus, I understand that Hot Rod is your ward, but how do you _feel_ about him?”  Braver asked, making more notes on his datapad.

            “He’s my little star, I care about him _very much_ ……….” Magnus whispered.

            “But _do_ you see him as an adult?   Can you see him as a _potential partner_ …………or will he always be _just a child_ to you?”  The psychiatrist inquired.

            Magnus levered himself up onto his elbows so that he could look over at the red-and-blue mech.  “Are you telling me to……..?”  He inquired, puzzled by his psychiatrist’s new questions.

            “ _No_.  I’m trying to help you sort out your feelings—and to try and understand Hot Rod’s,” Braver said, firmly, in his even-toned voice.  “You’ve _always_ had unresolved feelings about your members of the Voyager Class unit.   Why did you never join in their ideas of _‘fun’_?”  He asked, curiously.

            “They…….. ** _I_** ……….. _mmm_ ,” Magnus trailed off, lying back down.  “I don’t think I could interface with _all_ of them.  Maybe I could…..a couple………. _but_ ……….”

            Braver smiled, encouragingly, at Magnus.  Clearly the former soldier didn’t notice how he never used the slang word “ _frag_ ”—clearly interfacing meant something intimate and special to him, that he had strong feelings about the act itself.   That was something that may well have been drawing him down into more confusion.

            “Magnus, have you ever interfaced on a casual basis?”  Braver asked.

            Magnus shook his head.  “I’ve _never_ interfaced at all…….” he murmured.  “I had my seals surgically removed so it wouldn’t interfere with the Voyager Armour’s interface system—as there are many direct plugins and connectors,” he explained.

            Braver suddenly had an “ _ah-ha!_ ” moment.   It seems that Magnus was of _that type_ , someone who was waiting for “ _the one_ ” before giving away his innocence.   And, even though he’d had his seals surgically removed—he _was_ still technically a _virgin_.   Hot Rod’s sudden amorousness was something that Magnus didn’t quite understand.   Over the many sessions the past four million years, Braver had come to realize that although Magnus may be mature and wise, he was also perhaps a bit _naïve_ —and he had certainly been raised very sheltered.   The white-and-blue mech was an interesting conundrum………he was built and raised for war, but was awkward and hesitant in the social activities that came with peace.   The older mech was also friendly, but not outgoing.

            “I am _not_ trying to force this issue, but Magnus………have you ever considered looking at Hot Rod as an _adult mech_?   I am _not_ trying to tell you to have a relationship with him, but right now he’s young and he’s trying to understand what his own feelings are as he comes into adulthood,” Braver said, firmly.   “It is even possible that the two of you could figure out adult relationships _together_.  That doesn’t mean you should immediately get together and frag, I’m saying that you both could benefit from understanding each other _emotionally_.”

            “Do you think that Hot Rod really is in love with me?”  Magnus asked, tilting his head so he could take a glance at his psychiatrist.

            “He may well be…….it’s certainly possible,” the red-and-blue mech chuckled.  “In a way, I think it’s an oddity of the youngling fostering system here on Corona.   Many of the younglings go on to form a permanent bond with the one who raised them……………while for many of the guardians, it may be their first invested _‘relationship’_.”   Then Braver tapped his stylus on his datapad as he tried to think of the best way to state his next thought to his patient.  “There are pros and cons in _any_ kind of relationship—there will _never_ be absolute perfection.   It’s mostly up to the pairs and trines who take on bondings to decide if it’s worth it to them all in the end.”

            “ _Trines_?”  Magnus asked, tilting his head to look at Braver again.

            “True trines are rare, but you’ll find a few in the various cities of Corona,” the psychiatrist said, smiling at Magnus.   “It’s a bonding of three who’ve chosen a relationship together.”

            “That’s……….how does _that_ work?”  Magnus gasped, puzzled.  If the idea of a pairing and intimacy was foreign to him………… _three people in an intimate relationship_ was beyond his scope of imagination.

            “I can’t say that I know, honestly, but I assume everyone in the relationship defines their roles,” the psychiatrist chuckled.   Then he glanced at the time.  “Let’s call it a day.  You just rest and relax……..and we’ll talk about this more tomorrow.   I believe you said Hot Rod also gave you a letter to read—you should read it with a very open mind.”

            “All right,” Magnus responded, getting to his pedes and dipping his shoulders politely to Braver.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Arcee and Springer had been awed by Magnus’ large hab block—they peeked and poked into every single room except for Magnus’ berthroom, which Hot Rod said was _absolutely off limits_.  The wash room had their most focused attention, because neither had ever seen an actual tub before—only the traditional standing washracks.  They were both pretty awed with the gymnasium, as well.

            “ _How’d_ he get all this?”  Springer asked, as they all sat around in the gym, chatting.   Since they got together after school, they decided that tonight would be for relaxing—studying would start tomorrow.

            “The leader of his military unit back on Cybertron gave it to him…………Sentinel Prime,” Hot Rod answered, grinning.  “He founded Corona, too, I believe.”

            “He knew a _Prime_?  That’s _amazing_!”  Arcee chuckled, rocking back-and-forth on her curved aft.  “It sounds like Magnus was pretty important back on Cybertron.”

            “He was in an elite unit back on Cybertron, under Sentinel Prime himself………there were only ten members in the unit,” Blurr answered, nodding over at her.   When they were younger, he and Hot Rod had asked millions of questions of Magnus, when he began their self-defense training.  Some of those questions he answered and answered honestly, some he _never_ gave answers to.

            “Okay………..so, I’m going to sound dumb.   _What’s a Prime?_ ”  Hot Rod asked, glancing at Arcee.  “I thought it was just a military or political designation……….”

            “Well, Cybertron _did_ use it in that way,” the pink-and-white femme answered, knowledgably.  “But it more or less comes from the ancient legends about Primus and Unicron.   Legends say that a Prime will appear to help Primus defeat Unicron.”   She paused and stopped rocking, then planted her hands in front of her.  Arcee looked very serious as she continued.  “There are many varying legends, it simply depends on which sect of the religions you want to believe in—a few legends claim there will be thirteen Primes, while others claim there will only be one true Prime.  It’s entirely possible to believe in _both_ legends, though.”

            “How can you believe in _both_ —thirteen and one are two vastly different numbers…….?”  Springer murmured, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.  The green-and-yellow mech was more of a physical action type……..his grades were only average, it was clearly Arcee’s relationship and tutoring which kept him from failing at all.

            And maybe _that_ was why Hot Rod got along with him so well.  They both did better in physically active lessons than in classroom settings!   Springer was also a pretty good fighter—nowhere near Magnus’ level, but good for a younger mech.   Springer also had a dual alt mode, he could transform into both a sharp race car or a helicopter, though he often preferred his aerial alt mode over his ground one.  He only tended to use his ground alt mode when he was driving with Arcee, whose alt mode was a ground vehicle.

            “I see where you’re going—it revolves around that mythical _Matrix of Leadership_ , doesn’t it?”  Blurr chuckled.  Now Blurr and Arcee had both top grades and quick, analytical minds.   “But has anyone ever seen this object?   If it _does_ exist, then……..well, let’s just say that it’s possible the thirteenth Prime is _‘the one’_.   Since this Matrix of Leadership accumulates the power and knowledge of those who held it—the thirteenth, or _‘the one’_ , would be the person who used all that accumulated power against Unicron.”

            “But………..then, did the Council of the ten Primes all hold it at once?   I mean, _how_ would that work?”   Hot Rod asked, tilting his head, puzzled……..looking back-and-forth between Arcee and Blurr.

            “They may have all taken turns, in order to bond to it.  Theoretically, it _might_ be like Spark-bonding,” the pink-and-white femme answered, smiling at Hot Rod.   “Once they all bonded to it………..it would take whatever essence from them that it needed, or wanted, when they died.”

            “Do you think the Council of Primes is truly gone?”  The young, flame-colored mech murmured.   He knew Magnus would be crushed to know that the Prime who raised him was gone—Hot Rod felt that somewhere in his Spark, Magnus hoped that Sentinel Prime was still alive.

            “Without contact from Cybertron, I doubt we’ll ever know,” Blurr sighed, shaking his head.  He knew exactly what his best friend was thinking.   “Question, though, Arcee?”  The younger blue mech inquired, raising a servo towards her.   “There were only ten Primes and this object hasn’t been seen—what about the remaining three?”  He posed, tilting his head curiously at the pink-and-white femme.

            “In the last two million years at the very least, we’ve had no contact with Cybertron,” Arcee replied.  “A couple more Primes may have been chosen—the Matrix could have been made public.   Or, I suppose, we may still be a very long ways off before Unicron could appear.”

            “ _By the Pit!_    I sincerely hope that it’s the latter!”  Springer groaned.   “The last thing we need right now is the end of the universe!”  The green-and-yellow mech said, grabbing his lover’s slender servo.

            After chatting for a while longer about totally random things, nothing anywhere near as serious as before—the four finally set out to recharge.  Arcee and Springer got the unused berthroom……….and likely did some fooling around before sleeping……….while Blurr shared the large, plushly padded berth in Hot Rod’s room.

            “Roddy……..you know, I think you just gotta give Magnus the time, okay?”  Blurr replied, answering a question his best friend has asked before they lay down in the berth together.

            They were both lying on their backs, holding hands fondly, looking at the ceiling of the berthroom.  Hot Rod had a projection sphere that displayed a stellar view—right now it was the area of space as seen from outside of Corona’s atmosphere.  The sphere could project the stellar areas of all ten of the colonies, plus Cybertron.

            “I know……….I just………” Hot Rod sighed, squeezing Blurr’s hand in return.   He was trying so hard to give Magnus time, but he was anxious and just—wished that his guardian would come to a decision already.

            “You’re going to think this is weird, but……..I think Magnus is innocent— _a virgin_ ,” Blurr chuckled.  “He’s an adult, sure……..but he seems to have a naïveté that says he hasn’t experienced some common adult things, like fragging.”

            “You think so?”  The flame-colored mech gasped, raising himself up on his elbows to look down into Blurr’s faceplate.   “ _Wow_.  _Whoa_ …….no, that makes _total_ sense!”  The young mech laughed, flopping back down onto the cushioned berth.   “I never even stopped to think that, since he’s like four mil…….you know?”  He murmured.   Then the two were quiet for a few moments.  “What’s it like, Blurr—you know, _fragging_?”  Hot Rod asked, curiously.

            Blurr, although he was the same age as Hot Rod—he had already had three intimate relationships.   They were all casual ones, nothing near approaching the level of Spark-bonding—such as Arcee and Springer were.   The young blue mech claimed them as fun, for both him and his partner—he’d berthed one mech and two femmes.   Though he’d stated there wasn’t a lot of physical difference, besides bulk and line between the two distinctions—he found he preferred interfacing with femmes more, over mechs.   Blurr thought that he felt a femme’s valve was softer and warmer—as well as the fact that the couple femmes he did berth hadn’t the tendency to display their spikes, as mechs were wont to do.   Blurr had nothing really against it, but his preference did not lay in messing with another’s spike, at any rate……….he _definitely_ preferred the softness of a valve to sink his own spike into.

            “The first time…….. _seal-breaking_ ……..hurts like slag and could probably scare you from ever wanting to do it again,” Blurr chuckled warmly.   “Honestly, once you get past the seal-breaking part and the few days of ache after that…….it’s kinda fun and enjoyable.   Well, at least when you’ve got a partner that’s fun and enjoyable.”   Blurr then tilted his head towards Hot Rod and grinned.  “Save yourself for the one you _truly want_ , okay?  There’s no need to rush to get there,” he said, warmth and fondess in his voice, as well as in his field.

            “Okay,” Hot Rod answered, smiling very shyly at his best friend.   “Let’s get some sleep.”

            The two young mechs curled in towards each other, under a comfortable blanket, and fell into recharge together.   Hot Rod began to have a very strange dream…………he knew he was dreaming, because everything had a weird, fuzzy and unfocused look to it.  But while he was in the dream itself, the world felt truthful and real.

 

            **_……..imus……Pri…….._**

_It was a voice that was both soft and strong.  Hot Rod looked around the area—he was on a planet?  A moon, perhaps?   The ground was dusty and barren and there were massive cliffs of rock in the distance._

_“Where are you?”  The young flame-colored mech called, cupping his servos around his mouth to focus his voice a bit more loudly.  “ **Who** are you?”_

_**…….Rodimus………..Prime…………**_

_Hot Rod tilted his head, puzzled.  That **wasn’t** his name, but he had been absolutely certain the voice had been calling out to him!  The young mech decided to start walking towards the cliffs, then stopped suddenly when he found he was already at their base.  That walking was awfully fast, even for him!_

_Hot Rod looked up the face of the cliff, his optics slowly going up the face of it—until he became startled by the figure standing on the top of the cliff that was looking down at him.   This was one scary-looking mech—at least as tall as Magnus, but far bulkier.   His armour was purple-and-grey, with a helm design that resembled a three-point crown.  The tempered glass over the optic orbs was red and there was a fierce ruby glow in the optics.   However, truly the most frightening thing was the arm that was pointing down at Hot Rod………..mounted on the forearm was a massive orange cannon, which was glowing fiercely as it charged to fire!_

_As if that were not enough, behind the nightmarish-looking mech was a **huge planet** (???) hanging in the sky—a grey, metallic planet with bits of orange, including an orange ring around it.   The planet seemed strange, unnatural with an orange, spiked maw opening in its center.   A glow seemed to suffuse the depths of the maw……….._

_**Arise, Rodimus Prime!**_

 

            Hot Rod awoke with a start, bolting straight upright and taking half the blankets with him.  Blurr was still in deep recharge mode beside him.   That dream………..it was so strange, yet it felt very **_real_**.

**Author's Note:**

> A mysterious prophetic dream............why not? :)


End file.
